


If You Want It

by quirkysubject



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom Freddie Mercury, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, M/M, Name-Calling, Power Dynamics, Sub Roger Taylor (Queen), Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22505332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quirkysubject/pseuds/quirkysubject
Summary: For the kinkweek promptGet Down, Make Love
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Comments: 28
Kudos: 129
Collections: Kink Week Queen & BoRhap.





	If You Want It

**Author's Note:**

> Dom!Freddie/sub!Roger. Safe words etc. are in play.
> 
> You know [ this glorious video](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0f5zQcQFCVA) of Roger rehearsing "Get Down, Make Love"?  
> Well, for some unfathomable reason it inspired me to write this. Go figure.

Roger Taylor naked and on his knees with a cock in his mouth is the hottest sight on this blue earth, Freddie has decided. He almost feels bad for all the people who'll never get to see it, because this? This he's not willing to share. And knowing that there's no one else Roger's ever done this for nor ever will only makes it better.

It also helps him shut up every once in a while. 

"Do you even know what you look like?" Freddie trails his thumb over the corner of Roger's mouth where it is stretched around his cock. He holds himself still and puts a hand underneath Roger's chin to keep him from moving. 

Roger's hands are firmly clasped in the small of his back, just like Freddie told him. His chest is rising and falling with each deep breath he's taking through his nose. Long lashes fan out over his cheekbones. 

"Do you", Freddie insists.

After a few seconds, Roger shakes his head minutely. As if that were true. As if that is enough. 

"Look at me."

Roger takes another deep breath like he's steeling himself before his eyelashes flutter up. Freddie knows how much this gets to him, when Freddie makes him look, makes it impossible for him to hide away inside himself. He hates it and he craves it and knowing that only makes Freddie want it more. 

He strokes a couple of sweat soaked blond strands from of Roger's forehead. Freddie's still in his jeans and shirt, having only pushed down and tugged aside his clothes as much as necessary. Roger is kneeling naked between denim clad legs and the contrast makes him look even more exposed. 

Freddie leans forward a little. "Like a slut", he whispers and bites his lip when he sees Roger's eyes flutter close, a frown forming between his eyes like he just _cannot_ possibly keep looking up. 

Which is a lie. 

Freddie slides his hand further to the back of Roger's head, trailing his fingernails along it. Roger groans - he's got such a lovely sensitive scalp - and Freddie grips a fistful of hair tightly in his hand. Roger hates this too, especially when it makes him hard as a rock. His eyes fly back open and he gasps around Freddie's cock which is not an altogether pleasant sensation. 

"Hmm, like a needy," Freddie pushes his cock in with a tiny thrust, "greedy", another thrust, "little cock slut." He tightens his grip on Roger's hair, forcing him to lean his head back a little more. That little bit of resistance that Roger puts up sends a surge of arousal through Freddie. It's never easy with him. He never, ever just does what he's told. 

They both like it better that way. 

The tip of Freddie's cock is pressing against the roof of Roger's mouth now, forcing him to open up a bit more. Freddie moves his foot minutely, not-so-accidentally brushing his toes against Roger's balls. Roger moans against him, pushing himself forward into the contact. Oh god, the sounds that he makes. 

Freddie huffs out a breathless laugh and pushes himself a bit deeper into Roger's mouth, not enough to be a challenge yet, but just enough to suggest things to come. 

"Thought so", he says quietly as he sets up a rhythm that's just slow enough that he can keep it up for a while without coming, because with Roger looking like this that's always a danger. "A pretty, little slut that just cannot get enough. So desperate get stuffed with cock, hm?"

A flush has spread all over Roger's neck and face, a lovely pink tinge that only heightens the depth of his blue eyes.

Although all he wants to do is bury himelf as deep as he can go in that lovely mouth, he pulls Roger off completely. Freddie runs a finger along the corner of his mouth, wiping off the trail of spit that has formed there. Roger looks wrecked already. His lips are red and swollen, his eyes slightly out of focus. Freddie lowers his voice to a deep rumble. "Aren't you, darling?"

A shiver runs through Roger, his pupils blown wide. 

Freddie sits back a little, trying to look cool and unconcerned and not like he's one one inch away from coming all over that pretty face. "I assume you'd like to come tonight."

Roger has the bloody cheek to roll his eyes at him. Freddie will remember that. 

He uses his thumb to play with Roger's lips for a bit, spreading slick over them and pushing them this way and that. "Answer me, then."

A frown of confusion appears on Roger's face. "Answer what", he asks, a bit of annoyance in his voice, like he doesn't understand why Freddie doesn't just get on with it. But Freddie doesn't think he deserves getting on with it just yet. 

"Aren't you", he repeats slowly, savouring every word, "a pretty little slut, desperate for cock?"

Roger's mouth falls open a little wider. Freddie uses the opportunity to push his thumb in, probing against Roger's tongue. They haven't really done this. Freddie's called Roger all sorts of names, but he's never made him say them back. 

What a dreadful oversight. 

"I don't..." Roger's words are muffled by Freddie's thumb. 

"You don't?" Freddie takes his hand out of Roger's hair and reaches for his own cock. He holds it against Roger's cheek in a gesture that would be tender if it weren't also completely obscene. 

Roger turns his head towards it, thumb slipping out of his mouth, leaving a wet trail on his cheek. Freddie lets him have the tiniest suck for a moment, just the tip mind, and he almost regrets it because it feels so divine he almost abandons his plan. But then he puts his free hand at the back of Roger's neck and pulls him back. 

"I don't know about you", he says drawing the tip of his cock lazily over those red lips, "but that looked like the act of a proper cock slut to me."

"Fuck you", Roger rasps even as his tongue chases the taste of precome on his lips. He is _delightful_ like this. 

"Tell me", Freddie says, letting just the tip slide in again. " _Say it_."

"I..."

"So pretty on your knees for me", Freddie whispers. "So hungry for it."

Roger's tongue sneaks out and he swirls it around the head of Freddie's cock, which is the only part he can reach right now. 

"Say it if you want it."

Roger's eyes squeeze shut. His breaths is coming in ragged pants, hitching a little on every inbreath. Oh, this is getting to him. He wants to, Freddie can feel it, but it's so, so hard for him. 

"I'm."

"You are what?"

"Oh Christ", he gasps and tries to turn his face away but Freddie doesn't let him. 

His voice is so faint Freddie's concerned for a minute he might be about to pass out. He runs his toes over Roger's cock to give him that bit of encouragement. 

"I am..." Roger swallows hard and the sight of his throat moving has Freddie recite the circle of fifths in his head. If Roger's not getting on with it within the next ten seconds Freddie's going to forfeit this battle of wills and just wank himself to completion, because good lord, this is driving him insane. 

But not yet. Freddie bends down. "You are such a..." he whispers in Roger's ear. 

"...a slut", Roger whispers back. 

Freddie sits back, the heady surge of power coursing through his veins, pushing him higher and higher. He presses his thumb and finger into Roger's jaw to make him open up again and pushes his straining cock inside his mouth. "Yes, you fucking are", he grinds out. He allows himself a couple of thrusts before pulling back out, his release so close he can taste it. He grips himself tightly around the base so he can hold on a little longer. "Say it again", he rasps. 

"I'm a slut", Roger repeats, voice raspy and thin. 

Freddie allows himself another couple of thrusts, but stops quickly, because it still isn't what he wants, but also because he is almost at the end of his tether here. "What kind of slut?"

Roger lets his head fall back hand huffs out a laugh. "Christ, are you really going to..."

"You know I will." He presses his balls against Roger's mouth for a moment in the mistaken assumption that that will be a little more bearable. It isn't. "Come on, tell me what you are. And I'll give you what you want."

"I'm a... a greedy... a greedy little cock slut", Roger grinds out and really the only way to make this better is if his eyes weren't squeezed shut, but that would be more than either of them could take right now. Freddie's just about to push back in him when Roger does something that has Freddie scrambling to hold onto the remains of his sanity. "Please let me have it", he whispers. 

Oh god. Oh _god_ , he is asking for it, asking for Freddie's cock unprompted, this proud, stubborn man who said 'please' maybe five times in all the years they've known each other. Freddie is trembling with the desire to just shove himself inside that exquisite mouth and come his bloody brains out already, but somehow he manages to hold back just for another couple of seconds. He has no idea if this is ever going to happen again so he is going to make the most of it. "Let you have what", he asks, and his voice sounds just as fucked as Roger's. 

"Your cock. I... I want it."

"Why?" His cock is screaming bloody murder at him but somehow Freddie manages to hold himself still, an inch apart from Roger's trembling lips. 

"I need it."

" _Why?_ "

Roger's voice is shivery, slurred. "Because I'm such a slut. Because I..." He's cut off as Freddie pushes his cock into that magnificent dirty mouth. 

Freddie puts one hand at the back of Roger's neck to hold him in place and rocks himself into the wet heat. "Yes, come on, take it", he whispers. "Take it all."

Roger is taking it beautifully, staying very still and letting himself be used like the good little cock slut he is tonight. "Look at me", Freddie whispers and pats his cheek with increasing urgency. "Look at me, come on!"

And then blue eyes framed by forbiddingly long lashes blink up at him and his orgasm, so long held off, slams into him, taking his breath, having him double over as his muscles seize up and then go slack. 

When he comes back into himself, Roger's still kneeling between his legs, staring up at him a little shocked. He wipes his mouth - which is an utter, _utter_ mess - with the back of his hand, then brings the other one down to his cock, gripping himself hard. 

"Come on", Freddie says and hauls him up until he's half sitting in his lap, half kneeling on the sofa. His hands join Roger's on his cock. "Now give it to _me_ , darling", he whispers. Roger is thrusting into him, his breath harsh in Freddie's ear. Freddie digs his nails into Roger's back, urging him on and it only takes a dozen strokes or so until he comes all over Freddie's shirt, forehead pressed into the crook of Freddie's neck. 

They stay like that for a moment, breathing together, coming down. 

"I hate you", Roger whispers, then clears his throat. "Fuck", he croaks, his voice completely shot. 

It sends a thrill through Freddie to hear him like that, to know that he's done that. That Roger let him do that. Freddie presses his nose into his hair, nuzzling him a bit. 

"How the fuck am I supposed to sing tomorrow night, you arsehole?" Roger clambers off his lap and sits against the armrest of the sofa, arms crossed in front of his chest and glaring daggers. Like this is all Freddie's fault. Like he did it all for his sake. It's what he needs right now, so Freddie lets him have it.

Freddie picks up a blanket from the other side of the sofa and tosses it at him. Roger acknowledges it with a small nod and drapes it around his shoulders. He doesn't like to be coddled after, but Freddie's allowed to do small things like that. Maybe, in a couple of minutes, he'll even accept some tea.

Then he rolls his eyes. "Well, I really doubt yelling at me is going to help your voice."

Roger makes a couple of really rude gestures at him. Freddie gestures right back and it doesn't take long until a grin breaks out on Roger's face. Then he quickly schools his features back into a scowl and gives Freddie the finger one last time for good measure. 

Freddie zips up his jeans and grimaces. It's such a mess. A shower and a freshly laundered set of pyjamas are just what he needs. He gets up and rests a hand on Roger's knee. "Going to be alright", he asks quietly, casually. 

"Fuck off", Roger grumbles, but he pats his hand briefly. 

Shower then. And a big pot of sage tea after.


End file.
